“Uncle Dylan!”
“Uncle Bray!”
Kyle leaps into Dylan’s arms at the same time that Connor hurls his little body against Brayden’s legs.
Brayden picks him up and swings him around. “How you doing, buddy?”
“We want to play football with you!” Connor shouts.
Dylan rubs Connor’s blond head. “I think that can be arranged. Your dad probably knows of a good place to play.”
I don’t want to take them to Randolph’s football field and put Dylan in the spotlight where he’ll have to take a bunch of photos with the multitude of athletes milling around campus. So we end up driving to the park in town. Dylan and Brayden each pair up with one of the boys, and I play coach for a two-on-two game of flag football.
Once Connor and Kyle start tackling each other and forgetting that a football even exists, I call the game a tie.
We pile back into my truck, and I turn onto Main Street.
“Livia!” Connor screams out.
I whip my head right and then left. “Where?” I say.
“There.”
I slow down nearly to a stop and glance in the rearview mirror.
“Con.” He’s pointing at Union Bank. “Yes, that’s where Olivia works. But she’s busy.”
“I want to say hi to her!”
“Me too!” Kyle chimes in.
“I haven’t seen your cousin since you moved away from Liberty Falls,” Dylan says. “I don’t think she was at your wedding. Are you two still close then?”
At first I pretend not to hear his question. I focus on turning the truck into a parking space right outside the bank.
But when I glance over at Dylan, he’s looking at me, waiting for an answer.
“Yes,” I say finally. “We are.”
“She was a sweet girl,” Brayden says as I turn off the truck. “It will be fun to see her again.”
* * *
Olivia
“Oh. My. God. Hot guy alert. Three hot guy alert.” Cassandra freezes in place across from my desk where she’d popped by to drop off some papers for me.
Her shaky finger points toward the door, and I turn in that direction.
Jenson and his two sons, followed by Dylan and Brayden Wild.
Yes, they make quite the group. Dark-haired Dylan, who could just as easily pass for a model as a football star, is the tallest. Brayden and Jenson are both a few inches shorter, blond, muscular, and fit. And Jenson’s two sons are like miniature versions of him.
“You should see when the other three are with them,” I murmur. “The hotness meter just goes up.” And I haven’t seen them all together in years. They’ve grown up, and from the looks of it, only in good ways.
“Is that…” Cassandra keeps staring as the entourage heads in our direction. “Dylan Wild?!!”
I jerk my chin at her. “Yes, but don’t you have a customer up at the teller window?”
